18 Years To Love: Missing Mind
by sourcheesecake
Summary: After his second-decade birthday, 2D (whose real name is Stuart) had two traumatic accidents. This makes 2D reflect about the causer, Murdoc, an older man who abuses of him since they ordered him to take care of 2D. Fortunately,they formed a band where both meet a couple of friends that help them get along well. Is 2D going to persuade his partner? Gorillaz belongs to Jamie Hewlett
1. Playlist

_**~Kiwibiologer here~**_

 _ **For the few people who are reading this, I'd like to share my playlist with you! It helped me write the story, but I'm not sure if they fit right with it... What do you think?**_

Live – I Alone

Jars of Clay – Flood

Citizen King - Better Days (And the Bottom Drops Out)

Elastica – Stutter

Vogue – Madonna

Collective Soul – Run

The Offspring – The Kids Aren't Alright

Filter - Take a Picture

The Smashing Pumpkins – Disarm

R.E.M. – Losing My Religion

U2 – Mysterious Ways

Garbage - I Think I'm Paranoid

Elastica – Connection

Temple of the Dog - Hunger Strike

The Mighty Mighty Bosstones - The Impression That I Get

Goo Goo Dolls – Name

Pulp - Common People

CAST – Alright

Lenny Kravitz - Are You Gonna Go My Way

Beastie Boys - Sabotage

Nirvana – Smells Like teen Spirit

Europe – The Final Countdown

Counting Crows – Mr. Jones

 _ **I'll be updating it when it is necessary. That means I'll share more songs in posterior chapters.**_

 _ **Thanks to all my loyal readers! I know my story isn't the great thing, but I appreciate your time knowing about a freshgirl. Remember you can also read this story at Wattpad.**_

 _ **\- Kiwibiologer**_


	2. Quick Note

Quick Note

Our lovely story won't start until I present myself.

Hi, how are you today? I'm fine. My name's –wait. I need to go to an errand, I'll be right back.

So, where are we? Many of you may know this band… I've seen some of the fans making incredible stuff for the members, like mashups or remixes, etc. I think they are amazing and I wish I can do the same as you guys. The band's famous, but they have their reasons.

In this case, I have mine; anyway, it is pretty different from the others.

The narrative I'm about to tell you it's, in my situation, real.

Then again, there's a bunch of minor details I edited or changed to make it more gradable while reading.

Nothing I'm saying right now is useful, I have no idea for what I'm doing an extra page at the beginning, but anyhow, I just wanted to give you some declarations and wishing you a nice day, afternoon or night. Good luck and hope you don't get nasty for the following content.

-Anonymous

1


	3. Prologue

Prologue

In 1989, the U.K. was adapting musical styles relating to each decade. The 90's were about to start, and artists were getting ready for the new period. Rap, Electronic, Pop; genres transforming according to the era. Every musician was laboring its own manner, making the archive larger and with much variety.

But the most important thing was Alternative Rock; this sort was getting each time more popular and better, giving inspiration to a lot of young souls who were dreaming for being recognized around the world. But not everyone has the same chance for it, many have the luck of becoming famous at their first single, EP, album, or even first time they sing or compose. While most need to work a lot for reaching their goals.

I know, I know, you may think this doesn't have to do with the narration, but writing isn't really my thing. My familiars are so obsessed with giving advices and life reflections, so I couldn't miss the gamble.

Returning with the story.

At the same year, there was a group of guys from twenty-and a-catch years old, forming their own band at the Heavy Metal style. Their sessions were way too lousy; they had to practice at someone's house. Bad thing's most of the neighbors were just a ton of oldies criticizing the new music (for their time, not mine).

\- Y'all suck!

\- Our music is a million times better!

\- That's a bad example for our new generations!

Even I don't use that language… Well, those were the most common comments they received. The youth men just wanted to express themselves with music, but remember people in this world are pretty stolid and bigot.

-Who's going? –one of them asked. The four played Rock, Paper & Scissors, and the loser was the bassist.

\- How am I gonna tell those dorks to go away? –he asked furiously.

His friends were laughing at the situation.

\- Chill, dude –the guitarist said- They won't understand what ur saying.

The guy had to face the people, as he was saying: "Sorry for the inconvenience, but we can change place if you want". He found this phrase quite hard to pronounce.

Besides the not-so glad request, the oldies agreed and start talking between them. Except for an old man who threw a stick at his eye.

* * *

\- You guys are insane –said the bassist mad with his black eye at his partners.

\- Don't believe me? You need to see yourself next to them –said another one grinning.

\- How about a drink? –one of the guys questioned.

\- Count me in.

The young man, although they made fun of him, he was used to it and laughed with them. He accompanied them.

It was around middle night, early time for them to at least have a break.

By 2 or 3 AM, all the guys were at their houses excluding the bassist. Sleepy and looking around, he leaved the place. He walked by a foggy but lit street where he has been before. At almost the way's end, there was a park that was absolutely full six hours ago.

The drunk guy simply sat on a bench next to a rock road and a small artificial lake. He was sitting there, thinking about life just like I do when I want to study. After fifteen minutes, he was too tired to return to his house, he didn't find his keys in his pockets turning him disappointed… He fell asleep.

* * *

As he tried to open his eyes, he found himself with that annoying, shiny ball people call the Sun. His sight was really feeble from waking up. He looked at his abdomen to see a small squirrel eating there. He bumped observing the small animal, both living beings screamed freaked out. He wrathfully took the animal and threw it away.

His sulky attitude reflected as he turned around for a bunch of women talking about their families, kids messing around, girls playing with dolls…

Oh gee.

He rubbed his greasy hair as he tried to get up from his temporary bed.

\- Wot a hassle –he said hoarsely as he stood up from the bench.

The sun was shimmering at 9 AM, a baby was playing with a plush near mud, a dog running, two girls playing with dolls… He hated kids and yet he recalled of always carrying a contraceptive before going to a party, he he.

While putting his jacket on, he heard another kid, this time like pushing something or depositing strength at the GYM (he, I'm trying to put humor here, you know).

What was he or she doing? The guy faintly bowed his head gently gawking at a kid meters away from him. The voice sounded feminine, but as the young man turns he noticed it was a boy who was standing on his tiptoes.

The kid looked about 10 years old, brown straight hair and medium-heighted. He was trying to grab a freesbe from a tall tree, his arms were kind of long, but the plant's height was much superior.

The young man looked at the child for a few seconds; he bit his tongue while looking at him (not in a pedophiliac way). The infant sure looked inpatient as he groaned a few times after frustrating.

The guy couldn't resist himself while seeing him, he felt his emotions getting excited and walked to him. He stood on his tiptoes, too, and he grabbed the freesbe as he heard the kid's petty gasp.

-Here's yewr damn toy.

-Thanks, sir! -he said with a child's innocence. The kid sweetly smiled as he took his freesbe

The young man could receive a little bit from the kid's good humor for his day; he beamed with a stone heart having almost no change.

\- Yewr welcome, kiddo.

The kid asked him if he was okay for noticing eye bags on his face, the man simply answered he was fine not really doing what his phrase said.

\- Just leave me alone, kid. I've got better things to do.

\- But sir, you look REALLY exhausted –the kid stood out that word in capital letters- Are you sure you're okay?

\- Nyeh. I'm alright. Don't worry. Anyway, y' are yew hea so early? –the question was spilled out of his mouth without thinking about it.

\- Oh, my family and I are getting busy this morning. We've got lots of spending to do, and so I can't stay home alone.

\- Is yewr family hard-workin'?

\- Yeah, sort of.

The young man was sustaining a warm conversation with the boy, who honestly looked sinless and transparent. Everyone knows that rule of "not talking to strangers", yeah, that simple instruction has saved my life countless times, but the man didn't have any wicked purposes on conversing with him.

He didn't want to ask him everything about his day, but at least be able to meet someone different at the time. The minutes were proceeding while they were increasing the parley, the air was getting fresh and clouds came for 11 AM's volley.

\- So kiddo, are yew ready for tha rainfall?

\- Yeah. My mom brought me a new coat for today.

\- Heh, nice for yew –he pointed with his finger at the tot.

As they still gabbed, a woman formally dressed was walking by, twirling her head at both sides. She was pursuing for her child, who was exactly this boy.

\- Son! –called the lady- we're getting late! Where are you?

\- Coming mom! –the kid glanced at the man one last time. He grabbed his hand and shook it.

\- It was really nice to have this chit-chat with you, sir. But I gotta go. See you later! –the kid ran away leaping as the first water drops fell.

He saw this kid's mother taking out the raincoat he told the man about, it was from a dark turquoise with white stripes around it, she gave it to him and he put it on.

The lady observed her son holding his head; she placed her hands on the kid's chin and cheek. She had a big and lovely smile on her mouth, her son sure looked eager with the affection she was giving to him. She took out an umbrella and opened it covering the kid and herself as they walked away from the park. The man could listen from far way their voices having another talk between them, he had no idea of what they mentioned, but the love among mother and son provided him a melancholy deliberation.

Although the last argument, the man was still having a sweet flavor from the infant's behavior. The day was just starting, so he thought about not expiring the small amount of good humor he had from the morning. He couldn't get out of his head one of the only times he has ever been nice, it was like passing by a street full of fast cars covering the eyes … No time to remember those traits. Let's get going, you punks.

* * *

The man returned home, the approach wasn't long as he expected to be. His house was somewhat battered, but he most of the time felt cozy there. Paint falling from the walls, broken vent pipes, an antenna T.V., everything an unattached and single man needed for his life. He smelled the room and beamed as he positioned the first steps inside. Nothing like home!

He realized a chair was missing, he'll maybe report it later. There was nothing relevant that day, all was calm and quiet, he turned on his record-player, listening to a soft rock album. It was time to relax after a long road back home, as the clouds overlaid the clear blue sky; he closed his windows laid-back.

*crack!*

A window broke as a football dashed by.

\- Dammit kids! Yew'll pay for this!

A small squirrel on a tree near his house started to giggle lowly as he yelled to the people outside from his front door.


	4. The Narwhal

8 years have passed since that peculiar morning. Joys, tragedies, sorrows, fears that won't count for now.

Essex hasn't changed a lot during those years. As always, violence has been the same, some disturbances, but mayhem's a memento even at the most peaceful country around the world. In my understanding, almost everyone has ever been assaulted for at least one, huh? Am I right? Who cares? Although this happens, people continue their daily activities with a few cautions.

About the narration, our focusing point was the young man who can be referred as only "man" or "guy"; he was 31 years old now, meaning it was time to examine for new opportunities for many things: find a new home, friends, job, but specially people with high knowledge on music in general. The reason? As I told you in the Prologue, he was a member on a band, but as many he joined, they all failure at the end, by controversy, organization problems or just because it wasn't worthy. All of this ideas changed until where are we now, 1997.

As for him, he was making his way downtown somewhere to spot someone who could serve him as the band's "leader". A friend went with him at his search.

\- Maybe we can find someone at the park –the friend suggested.

\- No friggin idea, man –the guy answered.

\- Trust me -said Cohen, the guy's new friend- we can catch a master at this and we'll be successful. Hey, how 'bout there? –Cohen pointed with his tomb at a black-colored place with the sign _Narwhal_. The man simply sighed and put his hand all over his forehead.

\- Do yew think there's the correct guy's in hea'?

\- You may never know. Come one, let's go –Cohen pat the man's back as he advanced to the local. The man simply stared at Cohen, thinking he would fail once again in that day.

Despite getting along with someone who wanted to help him, he usually cogitated his own ideas, he though he really never met a total genius.

Before this counsel given by Cohen, they explored other dwellings where tracing someone with those requirements was like the winning lottery chances. I won't tell you about the other occasions, they were way too bad and useless.

There were the giant letters with the place's name, inside; the walls were painted in red, giving a nostalgia feeling to some people who went there. This was the correct place. People from teenagers to oldies liked the same as him, photos from famous rock artists like Elvis Presley in the classic rock section, Metallica, Guns and Roses from Metal, The Beatles with their original and creative kind… This residence appeared to have from everything.

The man felt pleasant as he saw many people who did the same as him, the surroundings were from his likings as a teenager, flawless place to find the right one. The local wasn't full at all, mostly people get around at night.

A blondie lady in jacket and black pants, with one hand over her hip and grabbing her hair with other one, asked them if they needed something.

Cohen simply answered "no", and this time the man didn't interrupt him like every time he asked something to an employee hours ago.

Then, they saw a presenter announcing advisements before the next role. He was sweating, tired and the loud music was hurting his ears. Anyway, he had to continue with his work.

\- Today's Thursday, so we got an offer of 2X1 on any beverages- useless dialogue line in here, I know. I just want a milkshake right now- for our next show, we have a recently formed group, "The Skeletons".

Cohen and his friend decided to stay and watch this role. A group of five members played "Are You Gonna Go My Way" by Lenny Kravitz.

The event was great, not professional but neither newcomers. People in there seemed to enjoy it, the crowd was shouting from their tables and smashed them telling for yet another song, a small event pulled a vast part of the audience watching.

The guy also had positive comments about the show but also pondered about going home.

Cohen found the music's quality so good, he finished his search for that day and he wanted to ask about the instruments to the band's guitarist.

\- Excuse me, but where did get all those instruments? – Cohen asked.

\- Oh, I got them at Yamaha, but there are other good places.

Cohen's friend wasn't actually waiting for that, but he changed his opinion.

\- You got Dr. Sax, Strings and Things, Jive Music and there's this place named Uncle Norm's Organ Emporium, the nearest for sure, which is… -this guy stopped a moment to count with his fingers- like a mile away if you were asking for it.

\- I didn't question for that, but thanks for the- Cohen couldn't finish his sentence as his friend took him away by pulling his arm in a disconcerted way.

The guy reacted as if someone stole his last cookies exported from Finland, well, not that much mad, just a little bit.

\- Wot' a'e yew doing? We were just comin' to find someone, not asking for-

\- Ey, you said you were also looking for stuff out here, so I'm helping you right now. Don't be mad at me, bud- Cohen said disappointed as he raised his hands to his shoulders' high.

-Yeah emo hair–the man said-. I'm leavin' this place –another useless sentence I wrote just for fun, said by the guy to The Skeletons' guitarist's hair. He poked his sight on a mirror in the restroom, he recognized his hairstyle wasn't so attractive at all, he frowned his mouth and exposed his eyes as seeing himself.

* * *

Sky was getting darker, the plain streets were getting emptier and the sun was hiding behind the tall buildings. They managed to find this site, casually; it was close to the petrol station they visited the day before. It had a classical style design from the outside.

As they managed to enter, they found out the place was (literally and in a metaphor way ) cool, the retro decoration and options changed the man's point of view about Cohen's choice.

A large dark-green walls room with softer colors kept in circles, black lines crossing through the walls, a black sofa at the corner, musical instruments filling the place of all kinds, well-organized things and amid other adornments you can picture in your mind.

The man felt again the throwback coming to his head and the feeling of what he could treasure there. He rushed himself to look for what novelties were in there while Cohen was checking CDs at the other side. The man could overhear some voices in the background (not inside his head, he didn't have any mental problems, he was just a little bit insane).

\- Hey Stu, my turn's over –a male voice said- my cousin and I are getting busy tonight, so Kenny's coming in my place.

\- Sure thing, see ya'.

The man witnessed the dialogue for the reflexion of a small sign covered in transparent plastic at his side.

He saw a young man sitting on a chair in front of a desk, checking something (he really was playing Minesweeper at the computer) and the other guy left the local from the gateway. He glanced over and the young man was coming to him with a wide smile and hands behind him. The older man tumbled at the other quarter; he smirked and changed his voice to sound less weird.

\- So, what's goin-

\- Good afternoon, I mean –the young man lift his forearm to check in his wristwatch- good night, sir. May I help you find something? –his voice sounded secure about what was he doing at the time, crossing his fingers in above his chest.

Cohen turned his head to realize what was going on with the employee's hair. He hesitated at the young man, Cohen tried to turn back his sight away from him, as if nothing really happened.

\- Nyeh. I'm fine… -the man suddenly recalled why he went there- wait, how much does this thing cost? –he said holding an acoustic guitar with both hands.

The young man took the instrument and departed to the desk where he had the checking-prices-thingy in the computer.

\- The today's offer is £302.92 from a normal price of £403.89.

The older man just directed his view to the floor; he sighted between his teeth and harked his sight back at the employee.

-Is there anything else I can do for you?

\- No, that was all –the older man envisaged overdue him before turning back, he shouted his friend's name which he took a while to reply, the older man got a little dissipated as he crossed his arms.

\- Hey –said the younger man- I think I've seen you before, you look very familiar to me… Are you… Manuel, Matthew… The man who plays the bass at the pub-

-Right, that's me –the man quickly answered even earlier the employee could finish his phrase, he set up his tone and got snooty- I'm Murdoc Niccals.

\- Oh yeah! I know who you are thanks to a partner who told me about you!

\- Alright, alright, calm down –Murdoc (finally you guessed who was, too obvious) moved his hand as if soothing off the young man.

Cohen finally showed up anxious, his friend and him left the store.

* * *

As they got in the car, Murdoc placed his hand on his friend's shoulder.

\- Things are ridiculously expensive there, don't you think? Besides, I couldn't help myself but look at this guy's hair, did you notice?

Murdoc stood quite for a few seconds, when he finally spoke heavily.

\- I MEAN, HOW SOMEONE COULD DYED THEIR HAIR COLOR BLUE!? It's not even a good color.

\- Em, Murdoc… I think you're exaggerating a little.

\- Oh, sorry. By the way, you're right. No worries, Cohen, I think I know what to do –Murdoc grabbed Cohen's head almost hurting him with his long sharp nails and he whispered something I can't identify.

\- But, Murdoc… That's technically impossible –Cohen said surprised.

\- Ok, then. So, plan B –he told his friend other two tactics he came up with at the moment, but Cohen wasn't sure about them. They were so strange even Murdoc considered them like that after saying them.

\- Cohen, start developing, plan D –he distinguished the letter "D' from the rest of the sentence, as if presenting a new invention, Cohen saw his friend's sharp yellowish teeth. He always though they were one of the grossest things he had ever seen, besides his mind.

\- You know, I can't have a comment on that; empty brains just annoy me-he laughed deeply as Murdoc stared at him while turning the car on.

\- Say that one more time and I'll swear that-

\- No! Just kidding, Mudz. Sarcasm is just another service I offer– Cohen said smiling and raising his forearms.

\- Nyeh, you're still a freshman for this stuff –Murdoc said to Cohen, who at the time was around 17-20 years old, yet learning about lessons he had no desire to know.

6


	5. D-Day

D-day

Chapter 2

Today's going to be an awful day. No, it's not my opinion, people from the time said in media like journalists or the TV news.

An adult regularly experiences days each time shorter, someone like me can still adore the time's duration. Ok, so today's sunshine elapsed as a lightning bolt. Some people had a strange sensitivity of a bad event happening sometime around the 24 hours of the day. Of course, everyone's in hurry or calming to distract themselves with an affair that won't affect them at all. Or so?

It was a nice Saturday, August for sure, outside was lonely and not so many public was paying attention to their surroundings, vexing about what they should do next.

But, what if someone didn't have any nice plans for the day? Most of you may be doing homework, hanging out with your family or at least laying on bed after a busy week.

The problem's that Murdoc and Cohen got a lot of free time -before sustaining the consequences- to do whatever they were thinking about... Drinking coffee.

\- I'd prefer a Russian coffee*, please –Cohen "gently" said to the waitress.

\- Excuse me, sir, but those drinks aren't available in the course of these hours. You can order coffee milk, ins-

\- Hey –Murdoc interrupted what the old woman was saying- if you give us two of those... -he put his hand in his jacket's pockets, handling a couple of bills and coins. He slowly showed them to the waitress, who stared at them for a few moments, and later, disclaiming with her head.

\- No, I'm sorry, sir. The only way to get them is to bring a special permission, indicating that you're responsible for the drink's results.

\- Here is it –Cohen handed a small-sized card that was exactly the one the old woman was talking about.

-Oh... Alright –the waitress took the card, she looked at the piece of paper for a small number of seconds in silence- Ok. Coming right up.

As the waitress walked away, Murdoc turned his head to see his friend, who was smiling as if he was a winner.

\- Then, how old a'e yew? –Murdoc asked confused.

\- Not gonna tell you, mate –Cohen grinned, crossing his arms.

\- Yew told me yew don't drink -Murdoc, reflecting about his friend, couldn't believe he did a minor lie besides... Can't tell it now.

\- Heh. It was only for you to surprise about it –most of Cohen's school partners used to drink and smoke a lot since a young age, he, on the other hand, kept the promise to not overuse of those.

The old woman attained the table after a few minutes, with the beverages on her hands. She stared at the two guys; she wide opened her eyes as if saying she was warning them about their choice. She raised a finger pointing at both. Murdoc frowned his mouth, rejecting the woman's advice and turned his sight again to Cohen.

Bad thing's Cohen, being even younger than him, already had at least one permission inside his wallet.

Murdoc, as well feeling old, sensed about being belated in major needs for adulthood. He called him a "freshman" last time, for other purposes, Cohen seemed more prepared than Murdoc sometimes. Murdoc shook his head to throw away those thoughts.

Both enjoyed their brews for the evening, Cohen practiced one of his first times drinking alcohol, the taste was kind of revolting, but he would get used to it. As for Murdoc, he always knew the flavor from many years ago, once again, that yellowish (or in any other color) liquid pleased his long tongue.

Unluckily, they ordered twice, the servers accidentally poured an extra amount of the dangerous substance without noticing it (one of them was watching the Football game, trembling his hands as the next goal was accomplished. He screamed loudly and did what I said).

Murdoc and Cohen, in no time, smashed their heads above the table they were sitting at; both friends didn't stop bothering the other costumers as making nasty comments about and old man cleaning the floor or laughing at a waiter slipping the plates accidentally (not only drunk people do that, I also do it when I go outside with my family). A waiter approached them, smiling nervously and picking up the empty glasses.

\- Um... are you two OK? –the waiter asked while pocking Murdoc's head.

Cohen muffled, he was hid his ruined face from the rest of the world with his arms, placing them on the table.

\- M-my meightss jast sleep-p-y –golly, I'll never drink in my life- Cahins fine as-

\- Sir, you're scaring the costumers –the waiter twirled at a family, two kids stared at the adult fuzzily as their parents tried to cover their ears.

\- Shat ya nooooice –Murdoc shattered the wooden furniture tilting his head, his face marked his facial expressions even more than when he was usual, Murdoc has been used to alcohol, this wasn't the hardest time. His cheeks flushed for the blood's traveling to the face, eye bags had no time to come back and his tongue was going crazy anew. Murdoc didn't stop licking his sharp teeth, giving chills to the other people at the local.

Finally, the waiter took a decision.

\- Sir, I need you to get out of here –the waiter pulled both chairs and smacked Murdoc's back.

\- Eh? Wot. Da ya wanna fi-fight? Eh, punk? –Murdoc stood up and posed his arms as if a combat was coming.

Cohen heard Murdoc's dialogue; he still had the alcohol's effect on the organism, nothing was going back to normal, Cohen outstretched his head. A lady walking by fainted as she saw Cohen's expression. Even Murdoc hesitated at him.

Cohen tossed his eye leaving it as a full white, his teeth was getting dirtier but wasn't seen for closing his lips as a duck kiss, he lopsided the head downwards displaying his dewlap at the public.

\- Wots up, Mud? –he asked in a loud voice.

\- Get a sgry, ya toad –Murdoc said, still drunk.

\- Alright, that's enough –the waiter punched Murdoc's face, letting him fall to the floor- GET YOUR UGLY FACED FRIEND OUT OF HERE!

No one cared about the event, each person kept talking as if nothing happened.

Murdoc stood up and balanced himself to not drop again, in small steps, he collided to a wall. He was cut down again.

\- Ys da so much blood in ma acol sytm? –Murdoc was too pissed off to come with new jokes.

Cohen laughed heavily as the waiter clutched his shoulders; he hauled him outside the place pushing him from the door.

\- As for you...

The waiter pulled his legs to then drag him at the street's corner. Suddenly, Murdoc stood up and grabbed a glass from another board; a man caught his attention by shouting.

\- Hey! That was mine!

\- SHUT YA NOICE –Murdoc handed a bunch of coins and threw them at the man's plate.

The waiter punched him another time in the face to leave him unconscious. He strapped the greenish man through the door as his younger friend.

Murdoc touched the ground to know he was outside. The air was calm and not many people were walking out there to restore him from the razzle. He still felt weary of course, but being drunk won't last so long.

Alcohol has always been one of his only real friends from stages like adolescence. Whenever he sensed the need of solace or a companion, the useful and inanimate liquid gave the solution to his problems. Mostly in the adult age, he had other reasons for drinking it, not so many conflicts were in his life, but he normally used it for fun and attraction.

\- Hey mate –Murdoc turned his head at the other side to see Cohen sitting with his extended legs beyond a wall, motionless and losing his gaze- I proms I won't dik agin- he erupted loudly making Murdoc feel disgusted for something much lesser gross as Murdoc as himself.

* * *

Cohen didn't execute his promise. Not related to the liquid that can leave you poor, but still dangerous.

Four hours later, Murdoc could drive again, the effect only worked exactly for two hours. Thirsty, Murdoc went to a self-service store to buy some water. He noticed night was about to come, it was around 6 PM but the clouds ran away from the sky, that was turning into a purple cardboard looking. Night's young, he tough, anyway, he needed to take a break from the wasted time at the restaurant.

Before finishing his purchase, he opened a fridge door contending water bottles. He took one, as a black can fell from its stand. Murdoc didn't care about it as anyone, but a teenage boy loomed from an aisle, he picked up the can and gave it to the brunette man.

\- Excuse me, I think this is yours –the teenager said. Murdoc didn't thank the boy, instead, he stared at the container for a while.

Red Bull, he heard stories of this drink many times. Not recommendable for children or youth people... Youth people. He wasn't so youth at all! (Nyeh. Ok, no).

He continuously wanted to taste the flavor in his palate, maybe having it similar to beer or vodka, he never had the sensitivity inside his mouth. Ten years ago, most of his friends had qualified the beverage at least once when it came out for selling, he couldn't decide... Wait, it was just a can, a simple silver-colored can with lots of sugar mixed in. No need to drink that, no one could compel him to do what he wanted.

No! The verdicts! Please not another major problem like the one from hours ago. What if he-

He didn't think twice, he just seized the damn can for once and paid. He took another one for his friend.

Murdoc and Cohen drank them for the first time in their lives, wanting more, their bodies started shaking and their minds blew up. No need to explain everything, if you ever had the experience, you'll know what would happen.

* * *

As I told you in the first chapter, Murdoc had four possible plans for getting the musical instruments from the store he visited. The fourth one, plan D, was about crashing the walls with his car, then getting in and take as much they could and later run away.

As the energy didn't escape from their bodies, they both wore their balaclava helmets and parked the car meters away from the store. Without concerning, Cohen indicated with his thumb that the path was clear and ready for the act.

-Wait, we still need soundtrack! –Cohen commented as he turned on the radio. Murdoc though his idea was stupid, but he allowed him to do it as staying quite. The moment would go perfect with a song, obviously related to action.

Murdoc waited a few seconds before stepping on the accelerator.

 _Fear of the dark, fear of the dark_

 _I have a constant fear that something's always near_

 _Fear of the dark, fear of the dark_

 _I have a phobia that someone's always there_

The lyrics were about a dark environment and nightmares. Cohen changed the station again.

 _I'm a Barbie girl, in a Barbie world_

 _Life in plastic, it's fantastic._

 _You can brush my hair, undress me everywhere._

 _Imagination, that is your creation._

\- A LOT LESS! JUST DO IT FOR ONCE! –Murdoc yelled in despair.

Cohen stopped his hand when he found the melody according to the event.

 _I can't stand it, I know you planned it_

 _But I'm gonna set it straight, this watergate_

 _I can't stand rocking when I'm in here_

 _Because your crystal bal ain't so crystal clear_

 _So while you sit backand wonder why_

 _I got this ******* thorn in my side_

 _Oh my, it's a mirage_

 _I'm tellin' y'all it's a sabotage_

\- GET YOUR BUTT READY! –Murdoc shouted excited.

He pushed the throttle pedal as fast as he could. The men didn't wear any seatbelts, this was one of the riskiest things they could have ever done. A small ramp helped them jump at a 77/mph speed.

The adrenalin blooming through their veins, their eyes could almost pop out for the force the car was getting from the obstacle. None of this avoided the men from feeling younger and free, perspiration on the skin and goosebumps invaded the organism. Emotions partying between each other, they couldn't think which of them was leading their minds at the moment, maybe joy for the thrill, or fear because of the high elevation. None of them mattered, the event was going on and nothing would ruin it. Smiles attacked their mouth as the show went on.

The glass front door broke in pieces of many sizes, no time passed as the car shunts on the floor. The walls were squandered, bricks tumbling and dust spreading in the wind.

They were closing their eyes during the climax, as they opened them, the beams frowned when they saw the big disaster. Murdoc accomplished his plan, not exactly the way he wanted to, but at least did it.

\- Dude, that was unbelievable! –Cohen shouted, Murdoc ignored him.

The windows revealed a the disaster as a full landscape. Cohen ran away to pick as much as he could, Murdoc stayed sitting for a moment. Was this a good idea? How much did he drank? Alcohol and excessive sugar aren't a decent combination in my opinion.

He opened the door to follow his friend, but an ensemble of wailing hesitated his thinking.

A male voice announcing a person was hurt, Murdoc carefully walked in tiny steps to look at who was making those noises. He surveyed something (I mean, "someone") who startle him instantly.

A young man, smiling sarcastically as he twitched his left eye. First thing that called his courtesy was his.. Blue hair? He recognized him as the young man who attended him three days ago. Second, he couldn't believe it. He has harmed many other people before, but none of them was compared to this tragedy:

The young man was laying under the vehicle, on the floor, lots of blood dropping from a giant black whole replacing his right eye, the red liquid delivered near the car half of his body was under.

That frightening picture still remains inside his memories at the day.

\- Hey Niccals, aren't you coming? –Cohen asked from the other corner.

His squinting sight didn't let him escape from the men who arrived shortly after the indident.

\- We're screwed, Wright.

* * *

* Russian coffee contains liquor


	6. Hello There, Chief

Hello There, Chief

Chapter 3

Murdoc woke up.

Jail. Once again.

His head was in pain; he approached his brunette hand to a small stab located next to his nose, a round area color pink, feeling as a sore. Murdoc slightly touched the wound, hurting even more than it used to. Blinking his eyes many times, he saw that he was in one of those cells he knows well, all of them looking the same, painted in gray. Everything that he noticed in the room was the stand he was laying on right now to sleep, and a toilet to…

He couldn't think about anything, he needed water to refresh his mind and finish with the headache he was suffering.

Of course, he still remembered various things from last night: crashing into the store, cops coming and then getting arrested. Not much for him, until he fondled the flitching paralyzer one of the police men used to knock him down. Ow, agonizing.

His body felt weak to move a single muscle by himself, a future migraine may be coming for the high temperature inside the building. He took off his jacket knowing he won't need it.

Now his skin reflected goosebumps thanks to the conditioned air.

He didn't think of glancing to the cell's outside. This small space was just for himself as his apartment from far away. No one around to bother him during the relaxing moments. Although everything he was feeling presently was physical grief.

The environment presented a cold heat. Murdoc turned himself above the wall, leaning on the "bed" trying not to worry about his imprisonment. He sighed considering that he was being watched by a guard who had no idea of how he would look like. What if it was an enormous man who kept an eye on him every single second? May be it was a scrawny guy with not enough strength to even tell him to stop being a moron. Like many times before.

Murdoc put his jacket on his torso, as a blanket would. Sure the walls were shivering, too. He reflected inside his minds that who else would be doing something stupid on days like these.

The installment felt lonely and quiet, the chills were about to consume his thoughts when he heard something from outside.

\- Cohen? –he asked himself in a really low voice.

A TV turned on, Murdoc heard as if someone was taking keys to unlock a door. Murdoc didn't feel exhausted at all, although the Red Bull's energy faded out his organism. The sweet smell of coffee made him react instantly. A guard was there to wake up Murdoc once more.

He rose up from the sleeping stand (with lots of soreness on his back) to find himself with a couple of cops sitting on a desk, a woman with a braid across her shoulder and a young man using glasses. The lady was watching the TV eating a sandwich, while the young man suited papers. New at work, they seemed to be.

Murdoc stood there observing them for a few seconds before the lady turned her sight at him.

\- Oh, hi –she said between bites- I didn't see you there.

\- Please –the glasses man responded rolling his eyes at the woman- we are here to watch over these criminals.

\- Sorry –she grinned a little- I just don't feel like doing anything.

"Criminals". Murdoc repeated that word many times inside his mind. Were they talking about him? If so, nobody has ever called him that way. Obviously that was the main reason to be behind the grilles.

\- Hey, you were supposed to continue the pendent from yesterday. I don't really see the problem of it. If you keep being lazy, the boss won't definitely pay you the next week –he sounded upset with the lady, who looked forceless as laying on the small chair in front of the TV. She turned around again to see Murdoc sitting on the sleeping stand.

\- So… The reason? –she asked while pointing her index finger to the floor.

Murdoc thought of it for a second, she didn't look interested for his story. She may listen at first, but later laughing at it as a joke. He recaptured the picture of the "corpse' from the other day, not feeling sorry at it, perhaps knowing he may be convicted for a penal servitude for life.

\- None of yewr business –he replied, scratching his head.

\- Kelly, stop asking him about that. Come here to help me with this paperwork-the young man ordered. The female cop sighted as if stressed.

\- I'm not doing any of those.

\- Hey, you know the security guards are also watching you as well –he pointed with his thumb at a teeny camera from behind- so stop talking.

\- You know? The boss told me to have a good day- she walked a few steps to open the door of the office- so I'm going home.

The pairing started a discussion between each other. The lady seemed to be a lazybones, as for the glasses man, he really was worried about his position.

Murdoc was used to be inside a cage of many types, the police station's weren't the exception. The discussion, serving as a distraction, gave an idea of escaping to Murdoc. True the grilles were too thick to let him go, but the security system was kind of weak. He found a small rock within his jacket's pocket. Murdoc, being a smart guy in the manner of strategies, looked around to notice a yellow button of the office's wall that read "SECURITY". Murdoc thought this was for turning on and off the system that kept him locked.

The discussing cops walked away as still arguing, so Murdoc had the chance to be free after 10 hours. Calculating the distance, he threw the rock.

\- Once more, Murdoc –he mentally said- you did it again- the excitement from doing this right for the first time went off as he hurt the glasses man's hand.

\- Ow! Who did it!? –he exclaimed taking his hand. He glanced at Niccals, who smirked as if he didn't have the fault, raised his arm greeting the cop. The mad cop now approached to the "criminal', turning his face red.

\- Now I know why you are here. You like to hurt others, don't you?

\- No, no. Sir, of cou'se not –Murdoc said as he bended his fingers in order- I'm hea' because of a mistake.

\- Then how did the witnesses described explicitly the incident you committed? Hm?

\- Well… I do not know anything about all those dorks, what's the point? –Murdoc said, hiding the truth.

\- That's it. I'm taking you with the boss –the male cop said furiously as he took his keys to open Murdoc's cell.

\- Don, stop! –okay, now the female cop was disturbing about her work, well, not exactly that, she just don't wanted to hear the boss's shouting all over the room.

\- No Kelly, I'm calling him so this guy stops bothering us –the male cop exaggerated a little bit with the situation, he didn't know the boss right. He left the room.

The female cop returned to her seat and continued watching TV.

\- Can I have some of yewr food? –Murdoc asked.

\- Noff –the lady responded whacking her sandwich behind her shoulders. Minutes later, she left the place.

Murdoc though about it for a second. Has the boss changed from the last time he came here? No matter what, he wasn't afraid of seeing him, but he couldn't think of what he would tell to him… Better stop thinking about that. The male cop returned just to sit on the same chair he was on minutes ago. He watched Murdoc for a while, as waiting for the boss to come in.

He twitched his eye several times as looking at the 'criminal". His face seemed grumpy as a bulldog's. His eyelids bent down. Murdoc waited as patient as he could to surface the watch. He simply raised his hand as for a greeting, but the cop refused to give it back.

None of the other prisoners were awake in the morning, so the instant between Murdoc and the cop was silent, not so, but Murdoc didn't even say the smallest word. He stayed smiling the whole time, the cop frowned his sight as Murdoc froze his face.

The brunette prisoner moved slowly, about to tell something, but the cop denied his request saying.

\- Nope.

Murdoc did it again, being repudiated once again, and again, for a couple of minutes.

\- Then y' can't I talk? -Murdoc asked, lifting his eyebrow.

\- No. I'm not saying that you cannot talk, but don't stress me out with your behavior.

What? I don't even understand this guy's conduct! That must be really weird, you know. Murdoc thought to himself this was way too exaggerated, he wasn't a strict cop, he had no idea of what he should do.

\- Then yew should stop treatin' me like a kindergarten child? –Murdoc said disappointed- Yew have no idea of yewr work's purpose.

\- Look –the cop said, mad and standing up- I'm telling you that you're acting inappropriately, you know you're in jail and you should know about your mistakes. I don't know if I can them actions… -he said turning his head. Man, he was a total berk.

\- Either, you idiot -Murdoc glanced back at him, the cop didn't gave an answer back to his insult. Seeing notes written with knifes on the wall, he supposed the other prisoners sure were bored (like this book) listening to the cops' conversations. He read them to entertain for just once (he needed to read them over and over again to do something else).

"You will have nightmares FOREVER".

"I dated ur mama last night".

"I like TRAINS!"

\- Just for you to know, the boss is coming in a short time- the female cop announced from the door she opened- And he's not glad –she moved her head sideways, her face expressed fear.

\- Finally! I knew he was going to deal with this man –the immature cop said.

\- Like if I was a baby, huh? –Murdoc said exhausted. Jail wasn't the same as last time- This isn't an office, it's hell with fluorescent lighting. This place is horrible to stay in. Is the boss coming yet? –the last phrase was gently said to the lady, Murdoc expected she had to be around with this stupid guy every single day, so she needed some respect.

\- I don't know. He told me he would arrive in-

\- Did somebody call me? –the boss mildly declared his entrance to the office/cells. His surprise-coming bumped everyone inside, including the other prisoners who woke up.

That voice. So… familiar. Was he… Wait, it was him.

Murdoc recaptured the boss's face, his attitude and uniform. It was him.

\- A-a-al.. Alvara… -Murdoc let the name blow out of his mouth.

Who was Alvara, you may ask. Well, he was the boss there. He also called himself as "Chief". He's, well, the Chief. He controlled the most important cases around there, besides founding the association they were working on, "Polices Incorporated at the Essex State". That name isn't so attractive at all, but everyone knows it for its acronym, "PIES". Alvara has been in charge of the association for many years, turning himself into a professional police during those long years. He learned and taught his team the importance of defending the state from "criminals" and menaces.

About his thing with Murdoc, well, that was a kind of different story.

\- Oh, it's you, Niccals –Alvara greeted Murdoc with no problem, what it looked like. He smiled as looking at the prisoner.

\- I told yew to call me… Murdoc –he separated his view from the Chief, his leg was shaking, his forehead started to sweat, his fingers shivered… What would the Chief do with him?

The Chief glanced at the male and immature cop, who was glad to see him talk with Murdoc.

\- I knew you would come! I had to endure two hours next to this –he put his hands in front of him, opening them to refer the talk to Murdoc- prisoner.

Alvara deeply sighted. Seriously? If he wanted to work as a police, he needed to tolerate any prisoner or partner, anybody. Of course, it isn't easy at all. But this was too much for his knowledge. He repented of hiring that guy last month.

\- Seems like if you didn't learn your lesson, do you? Being a cop doesn't always mean to fight with guns every day, you need to know how to handle other things.

\- I already know, but he was too annoying!

\- Keep telling that and I'll send you to the parking meters for the next month –Alvara also didn't want to drop heavy punishments to the team, so he established light tasks for a lot of time. The stupid cop obeyed his indications and left the office in peace.

\- He thinks he's very smart -the female cop added before leaving the office- the other day he told me onions were the only food that can make you cry, so I threw a coconut at his face –she left, lending Murdoc and Alvara alone.

\- So, where are we? Oh right! I was going with you, Murdoc –he stretched his fingers and creaked his knuckles.

"Oh no –Murdoc though in his head- not again… Unless I-"

\- Hey odd Alvara, how is it going? –Murdoc asked trying to sound comfortable in front of the chief.

\- Murdoc, don't act like that –Alvara opened his cell. Why was he releasing a man with no manners, who did a huge damage time ago? Alvara had other purposes to visit the prisoner- I'm taking you to my office.

-Don't yew feel a little bit lonely? –Murdoc asked as he stepped outside the cage.

\- We need to talk about something. About the incident you triggered with your partner.

\- Oh, yew mean Cohen? Yeah, that kiddo sure looked excited –Murdoc beamed, but his inner was worried. Alvara may be planning to do something else with him instead of interviewing him. He already knew he would screw up instantly, no doubt in that, the choices were a life imprisonment or even worse.

\- You are not going anywhere until I come with the papers ready. Ready Murdoc, you're going to know about your-

\- Don't tell me, don't tell me. I'll wait.

* * *

Alvara didn't interview Murdoc; instead, he assigned the punishment he would receive. Inside his office, the Chief wrote on papers some notes for the situation. The court investigated as tit could to know the reasons of the case, they almost got nothing, the witnesses didn't see a lot, so the information wasn't enough for them. The last option was to ask the causers themselves, extracting every bit of what happened that afternoon.

After a while, Alvara decided to finish that conversation because Murdoc didn't stop telling sarcastic quotes. Last question was the following:

\- And why did you robe the store then? I mean, you said it was for the prices.

\- Hey, don't need to ask me that, but I'll tell yew anyway. Prices didn't need to be low so we could go and beat somebody.

\- Okay, that's it. Time for the thrilling part… -Alvara loved his job, every single moment where he did something, he felt cozy realizing he was doing the good for the citizens.

Murdoc immediately changed his mood, from comedian to a nervous 31 years old man. He shouldn't have said all that. What did Alvara though about the interview? Should he have trust Murdoc for once more, letting him out of jail? Murdoc was afraid of wasting his time out of the hobbies. Finally, Alvara spoke.

\- You were going to be assigned to 10,000 hours of community service, but for the witnesses' lack of information we had to add other 10,000 hours, and other 10,000 more thanks to your last acts –Murdoc couldn't believe it. That was too much! 30,000 hours won't even pass until he dies, 30,000 hours are almost the same as how much time he has wearing in this life. Also, community service was one of the dullest things he had ever done, now taking over most of his schedule? No way! He must do something about it, but what? Cops don't regret about their choices. Now he must learn the consequences now.

And my kids, that's why you'll need to think twice before doing something!

\- And 5 additional minutes for your boring jokes –that wasn't anything, he laughs with his jokes, but he told too many the other seven times he attended Murdoc.

\- Emm… So.. Is there anything else? –Murdoc asked terrified, shrinking his pupils and biting his inferior lips.

\- Yes. You'll also need to take care of the boy you injured.

\- What!? Really man!? –Murdoc shouted.

\- That or staying in jail.

Murdoc had to choose either, having free time between long sessions of work or look at the same walls every day. He was wasted, of course, but the last request assigned by the court was going to be a little bit easier…? Retaining the unbearable punishment, he just got one choice left.

-Where's the kid? I need to see 'im.

* * *

 _Hey guys! Thanks for reaching this part. Don't forget to follow my user for more and leave your review below. Sorry if I suck at writing, but I enjoy doing it and no one won't stop me :D. When I get my vacations, I'll write longer chapters and I'll publish more often. Anyway, thanks for reading!_


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